The world in a drop

Look closely at the drop of water emerging and falling off the icicle in this photo.
Okay, what you see in there is not the whole world; it's an upside down image of just one stretch of one street in a small city in Ohio.
If we looked under a microscope, the world we would see would not be a microcosm of the street where I walk my dog; it would be its own cosmos, a world of microrganism, dust fragments of crystallized water-ice, minerals, atoms once in a supernova, and cells from leaves in the rain gutter from which this icicle formed.

Whatever world we see when we look up close, or when we step back and look at the big picture, we can still engage our sense of wonder by looking.  Ultimately, the world we form, the world of images and patterns assembled into knowledge and wisdom, exists is in the mind.

Calendar #2 sample; other plans

The second calendar; only a couple left of the one in a previous post

To the left is another calendar of photos, some from dog walks and some from other travels.  I have about ten of these remaining, and just three of the other calendar.  You can email me at jimfoley44@gmail.com to let me know you want one, and we'll make arrangements for payment and shipping.
    More full posts soon; I'm occupied with work and workshop prep and family and editing someone's book, and some days at negative 12 degrees it's been too cold to risk taking my camera outside!  I've got a stack of ten writing ideas and over a thousand photos to choose from, looking for the ones that seem to tell a story; thanks for reading and viewing; please comment right on the blog if you can.  Happy trails!

Me and my dog walk,/photography/philosopy companion

Leaf Ghosts

    These patterns of color and shading appear to be leaves, but actually are simply an impression on a sidewalk, a remnant from a leaf no longer there.
    People leave impressions on the world after they are no longer there.  When these impressions are so vivid that it feels like we are seeing the person, some say that it feels like they have seen a ghost.
    But usually the impressions of those no longer with us are more vague and fleeting, like the places in the grass where leaves have been after they are raked or blown away.  But even if it's not a conscious impression or clear image, we remember.

The star of the show, Sean; also, calendars

I've been absent from writing, even though I've got lots of photos and ideas.
But I thought I'd introduce you to the dog who gets me out walking.
This is Sean.


More pictures and thoughts soon.  Some of my photos are coming out in 2 calendars, one of which features Sean on the November page.  Let me know if you'd like to buy one:  I only made 25 of each design, most of which are going to family, friends, neighbors, coworkers.  I would be delighted to sell it at cost, $20 including shipping it to you, just to know that someone reads this blog.  Below is the version featuring Sean (though that picture is not visible below; it's a picture of him on a snowy sidewalk).  The other version has the red leave and dog print as the cover, and a few different photos.  Have a pleasant wrap up to your year!

vapor trail sunrise

Is this sunrise any less beautiful if we realize that most of the “clouds” are actually jet airplane vapor trails?

Human perception of beauty seems to be generally modeled after nature:  people tend to see beauty when the pattern of light or sound is a pattern that is not totally random (noise, mess) and not totally orderly (checkerboard, repeated tones).  We find total randomness and total order to be both boring and annoying, but somewhere in between, like a face or a flower, to be pleasant.  Even with faces and flowers, though we like symmetry, we prefer the tiniest bit of variation from perfection to make it “natural”; this is perhaps why in some periods of fashion history a mole on a cheek or edge of the lip was called a “beauty mark.” 

Nature provides this middle ground between randomness and order.  Nature has a lot of order to it; think of a shell’s lines or spirals, the uncurled self-similar branching of a fern, or the fact that the spacing of branches in a tree can be described by the Fibonacci sequence of adding the last two numbers to get the next one in a sequence. 

Humans are more likely to produce boring orderly patterns when they are intentionally crafting something artificial, like an airplane.  The paths that airplanes take are fairly orderly, due to decisions and pathways designed to keep them from crashing into each other.  But the whole picture above is a mix of trees (plus an artifice: a streetlight), wisps of “natural” clouds, jet contrails, and the way the trails are gradually spread and bent by the wind.

Humans create art on purpose to present beauty and meaning to the observer.  But everyday human behavior such as flying a plane, or cracking a wry half-smile in a moment of shared realization, especially in combination with some elements provided by nature, may produce beauty as well.

Ultimately, this distinction between nature and artifice breaks down.  Our products, technology, and behaviors, and vapor trails are, at least indirectly, part of the processes set in motion eons ago. 

Speaking of humans and other parts of nature mixing together; my dog is getting patient about not tugging at the leash as I stop to take photos like this. 

Slivers of light and worlds

I called to other early morning walkers (also led by a dog) and suggesed that they cross the street and look through the trees at this:  the moon, which is both a slivered crescent but also visible as a disc.
    This view of the moon reminds us that the moon is not a light, it's an immense rock lit up by the sun and by sun's light reflected off the Earth onto the moon.
   This view is also a reminder that when we walk through our daily world, we should occasionally look up,m and look past our immediate surroundings to see the worlds beyond.

Morning sun rays, please add sounds or meaning

Sometimes the morning dog walk is not so routine.

Add your own sound effects, 

such as a descending space ship, 

or a choir of angels.

Asking you to do this suggests that photography has something in common with poetry:  Both draw their material from the world, selecting just certain details and certain angles and certain frames to present, using the medium of pixels or words, and leaving it to the reader/viewer/listener to add more, to bring in their own meanings and experiences and images and sound effects.  

Art, (or pictures taken with my dog tugging at the leash while I aspire to art with nature's help), is an experience that requires the participation of a viewer to make it complete.  I hope someone views this. It's not a very unique kind of picture, but maybe it will trigger a comment about the experience you bring to help you enjoy my picture or my words.